Severance
by gm13lumos
Summary: When Marcus Flint's health begins to decline, Hermione and Draco rush against the clock to sever the tie between his life and Hermione's. Sequel to The Flint File.


The first time that Hermione collapsed at work, Draco was only mildly concerned. She had, after all, just given birth to their second child the month before. But that hadn't stopped her from going back to work part time, ignoring Draco's insistence that she stay home and relax. Knowing his wife, Draco figured she'd probably finally exhausted herself and this might be his chance to convince her to take a short vacation. But after a few scans revealed nothing wrong, Hermione perked right back up and went back to her cases.

Hermione occasionally seemed sluggish after that but it was usually the days when she would be home with the two kids and Draco would come back from work to find her snuggled on the couch with them. They always fell asleep the same way. The muggle television on to some bizarre children's program with large singing purple dinosaur, with Lyra laying across Hermione's chest and Scorpius tucked next to her side. Draco would tuck each of the kids into bed before returning and carrying his wife to bed.

It wasn't until a Tuesday morning a few weeks after Hermione first collapsed that Draco received an urgent message from Azkaban with a portkey enclosed that he even considered something was wrong.

 _Malfoy, Come as soon as possible, don't tell Hermione – Ron_

Ron Weasley was the Auror in charge of supervision at Azkaban and Draco knew that he rarely ever step foot on the island unless something had gone wrong. Plus, even though Draco and Hermione had been together for about 7 years now, he and Ron still didn't quite get along. So the fact that Ron was writing him directly, with explicit instructions that he not tell Hermione, meant something must have gone wrong. Draco quickly tucked the portkey into his pocket and went into the nursery where Hermione was feeding Lyra. She was seated in the rocking chair at the far end of the room. Scorpius was nowhere to be found which meant he was likely still sleeping.

"I've got to head to work a bit early," Draco told her, crossing over to her and hand on her shoulder. "When is my mother coming to watch the kids?"

"I don't have to be at work until 11am," Hermione replied, giving him a smile. "So she won't be over for a couple of hours. Everything okay?"

"Yes," Draco lied, ignoring the feeling of guilt that crept into his stomach. "Just some asshole making early morning demands."

"Kick his ass," Hermione encouraged.

"I wish I could," Draco replied, wryly. "But it's probably best if I don't."

Hermione gave a quiet laugh in response. Draco leaned down and placed a quick kiss on her lips before straightening.

"I love you," he told her.

"Love you too," Hermione answered with a smile.

At that, Draco walked out of the room and made his way to the front of their home. When he arrived outside, he looked back at the home. It wasn't nearly as big as the Manor he mused. But Hermione had insisted that they have their own home. So Draco had found a large plot of land and, with the help of Blaise Zabini's architecture firm, built them a house that suited their needs. More his needs than hers, he thought with a grin. He was the one who needed the massive eat-in kitchen, the spa-like master bathroom, and the large backyard with a pool and hot tub. But Hermione had insisted the house be painted white and had worked with Blaise to ensure the house felt not like a mausoleum (as she called the Manor) but like a home. He'd do anything to protect what they had here, Draco thought. So better find out what Weasley wants. Draco removed the portkey from his pocket, activated it, and felt himself being pulled into space.

When he opened his eyes, he was standing at the front gates of Azkaban. He walked up to security and, to his surprise, was immediately led into Azkaban and up to a small, bleak office. It had a desk with a chair on either side. A moment later, Ron Weasley appeared in the doorway.

"Malfoy," he greeted the man tersely.

"Weasley," Draco drawled back. "I don't like being summons."

"It's important," Ron replied, sitting in one of the chairs and gesturing for Draco to do the same.

Draco sat down as well and looked expectantly at Ron.

"How's Hermione?" Ron asked.

"You just saw her last week when we came by for your offspring's birthday party," Draco pointed out. "You should know."

"My daughter's name is Rose," Ron replied, agitated. "And Hermione didn't seem like herself."

"She's been a bit tired," Draco admitted. "Weasley, what is this about?"

"Marcus Flint is dying," Ron told him, watching as the shock flitted across Draco's face before it turned to anger.

"What do you mean Flint is dying?" Draco snapped. "He's supposed to be monitored around the clock. You and Potter assured me of that."

"He has been," Ron replied. "But we're not going to call you every time the man has a cold."

"But dying isn't a cold, is it?" Draco retorted. "What's going on?"

"A couple of weeks ago, Flint collapsed in his cell," Ron explained. "We've had the St. Mungo's medical team working on evaluating him since but it wasn't until today that they found out what was wrong."

"And?" Draco asked, impatiently. "What the hell is wrong?"

"His organs are failing," Ron replied. "From years of poisoning."

"Poison?" Draco repeated. "How is that possible?"

"Surprisingly, there's a number of ways it could have been administered," Ron replied. "Whoever it is only used a small amount so it was essentially untraceable until it began to damage Flint's organs."

"You said whoever," Draco pointed out. "Does this mean you don't know who?"

"We don't," Ron replied, grimly. "I've asked Harry and Seamus to run the internal investigation."

"So you have no idea if someone is targeting Flint or targeting my wife through Flint?" Draco asked, angrily. "What the hell kind of Auror are you?"

"We're doing the best we can as quickly as we can," Ron snapped back. "Damn it, Malfoy, she's my best friend."

The two men glared at each other for several minutes before Draco broke the silence.

"Why did you ask me to come here without her?" Draco asked. "You don't actually expect me to keep this from her, do you?"

"No," Ron replied, firmly. "She needs to know. I was hoping that you could be the one to tell her."

"Why me?" Draco asked, confused. "Surely you or Potter could be the ones to tell her."

"It has to be you because we have something to ask of both of you," Harry Potter said, the sound of his voice causing Draco to turn around in his chair.

"Potter," Draco greeted him with a nod. "What do you want from us?"

"A while back you'd begun working on how to sever the tie between Hermione and Flint," Harry replied, moving so he was next to Ron. "Hermione told me you two had been unsuccessful and, when Scorpius was born, you set it aside all together."

"You need us to start again," Draco finished for Harry. "How bad is Flint?"

"He has maybe a month left to live," Harry told him. "The damage to his organs is irreparable. Soon they will start to fail and, when they do, Hermione's health will start to fail with them."

"You're telling me we have less than a month to try to solve something that for three years we couldn't find a solution to?" Draco replied, running his right hand through his hair. "Merlin, Potter, why didn't you and Weasley just start with that?"

"You never worked on it full time before," Harry pointed out. "And we'll help in any way that we can. Ginny just started maternity leave from the Harpies so she's home all day with James and Albus. Plus Molly and Arthur are always around. We can have them watch the kids while you do what you have to do."

"Plus you and Hermione run your own firm. You have forty people who work for you," Ron pointed out. "Many of whom I'm certain are capable of taking over yours and Hermione's case load for a bit."

"You can make it work, Malfoy," Harry told him. "Your wife's life depends on it. Isn't that a good enough reason?"

Draco shot out of his chair and grabbed Harry's robes. "Don't ever question what I would do for my wife," Draco said, menacingly. "She's everything to me."

"I know," Harry said, calmly removing Draco's hands from him. "She's everything to us too. So let's do this together."

Draco stepped back from Harry and took a deep breath.

"Okay," Draco answered. "I have a number of things to take care of before I return home and fill Hermione in. Anything else I can do while I'm here?"

"Unless you know what the hell phenylquinoline carbonic acid is, no," Ron sighed.

"What do you just say?" Draco asked sharply.

"I can't say it again," Ron replied. "It took hours of practicing just to be able to say it in the first place."

"Phenylquinoline carbonic acid," Harry repeated, slowly. "Why?"

"Atophan," Draco replied, with a half-laugh. "Its common name is atophan. Malfoy Industries produced it, in very high doses, after my father found out it could be used to kill slowly and painfully."

"How is that legal?" Ron asked.

"In small doses it's used for rheumatism," Draco replied. "It's quite effective. After the war my mother shut down that part of Malfoy Industries but I'm sure there's other companies that still manufacture it."

"I'll talk to Hannah and Neville," Harry said, looking at Ron. "Since they're the administrators of St. Mungos, they might know where someone could get that and how."

"Thank you, Malfoy," Ron said, sincerely. "That will go a long way in helping us figure out who poisoned Flint and why."

"Just don't expect me to do your job for you again," Draco replied, his tone almost joking. "Good luck."

"Same to you," Harry replied, as Draco walked out of the room.

There was an Auror waiting outside the room who led him back out of Azkaban. The man silently handed him and portkey. Without a word of thanks, Draco activated it and was whisked away.

He found himself outside the law firm instead of his home. Occasionally, he thought, Potter was smart. He went in and, after 15 minutes, departed, leaving Theo and Padma in charge of the firm. He trusted Theo with his life and he knew Hermione trusted Padma so he was satisfied the two of them would take care of things. Draco then stopped by the Manor where he quickly filled his parents in on what had happened. Narcissa immediately offered to take the children to the Malfoy summer home in the south of France for a long vacation. Draco thought about it for a moment before agreeing. Narcissa had been bothering him and Hermione for more time with her grandchildren and Scorpius had been bored. This way, he thought, the kids could have some fun and they could get to work. Narcissa agreed to stop by "the cottage" as she called Hermione and Draco's home to pick up the kids in an hour. Draco immediately flooed from the Manor home. He came out of the fireplace and saw Hermione sitting on the floor with Scorpius.

"What are you doing home?" Hermione asked, surprised.

"The kids are going to go on vacation with my parents," Draco replied, crouching down next to Scorpius.

"Vacation?" Hermione questioned. "But it's the middle of April. No one goes on vacation in the middle of April."

"Hermione, please," Draco requested, quietly. "The kids are going to go on vacation."

Draco looked at her pleadingly.

"Alright, I'll pack them a couple of bags," Hermione answered, realizing that something must be wrong. "Keep an eye on Scor, will you?"

Draco nodded in response, pulling his son into his lap. Hermione quickly rushed from the room and, 20 minutes later, returned with Lyra in her arms, levitating a large suitcase behind her.

"Daddy says we're going to France!" Scorpius exclaimed. "But you guys aren't coming because Grandmother and Grandfather want time with just us."

"That's right," Hermione said, fighting to keep the tremor out of her voice. "You two are going to have so much fun."

"I'll floo my mother and let her know they're ready," Draco said, quietly.

A couple minutes later, Lucius, not Narcissa, came through the floo. The moment that he settled on his feet, he crossed the room to Hermione. He placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. He then held out his arms for Lyra. Slightly baffled by what she assumed was her father-in-law's version of a show of affection, Hermione placed a quick kiss on Lyra's forehead before passing her over. Scorpius bounded over to Hermione and wrapped his arms around her legs.

"Love you, mum," Scorpius said. "Don't forget to feed daddy."

"I won't," Hermione replied, with a laugh. She bent down and gave her son a tight hug before releasing him. "Go say bye to your father."

Scorpius ran over to his father and, after giving Draco a hug, took Lucius' outstretched hand.

"Have a great time!" Draco called out, forcing the cheer into his voice.

He watched as Lucius gave him a nod before leaving with his two children. Draco then turned to face his wife.

"Draco, what's going on?" Hermione asked. "You're scaring me."

Draco crossed the room and enveloped Hermione in a tight hug.

"I love you so much, you know that right?" Draco murmured, burying his face in her hair.

"I know," Hermione replied, her answered muffled from her face being buried in his chest. "I love you too."

Draco pulled back and slid his hands down Hermione's arms until their fingers linked together. "Marcus Flint is dying," he told her, calmly. "He has about a month to live."

What came next was the very last thing Draco expected.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, you asshole!" Hermione exclaimed, pulling her hands from his and slapping at his chest. "I thought something was actually wrong! I thought we were in danger!"

"You are in danger!" Draco shouted back. "Did you not hear me? The man who tied his life to yours is dying."

"So we go back to our research," Hermione said, slapping at him again. "We saved everything, I even remember where we left off. For Merlin's sake, Draco! Why didn't you just tell me straight out?"

"I didn't know how you'd take it," Draco replied, snatching her hand and holding it to his chest so she couldn't hit him anymore. "If I knew your response was going to be violence, I may have handled it a little differently."

"What did you expect me to do?" Hermione asked. "Cry? Feel sorry for myself?"

"I expected some kind of sad reaction," Draco admitted. "Certainly not this."

"I have every single reason to want to fight for my life, for ourlife," Hermione answered, shaking her hands against Draco's hold. "Feeling sorry for myself won't do that. Severing that tie will."

"I forget, sometimes, how positively Gryffindor you are," Draco said, leaning down and giving her a long kiss. "I love you."

"I love you too," Hermione replied, giving him a smile. "Now that you've gotten rid of our children and I'm assuming our responsibilities at the firm, should we go down to the study? Get to work?"

"It's frightening sometimes how well you know me," Draco told her, releasing one of her hands but intertwining his fingers with the other. "Let's get to work."

Together, they descended the stairs into the basement where, tucked at the back, was the study they had set up when they first moved into the house and were continuing their work on severing the tie. Everything was exactly where they'd left it. Draco sat down at the desk where his papers were and Hermione sat down on the love seat behind the coffee table where her papers were. Silently, they went back to work.

After several hours, Draco looked up from the papers in front of him with a frustrated sigh. He ran his hand through his hair and looked over at Hermione. It still stunned him, he thought, that she'd chosen him. With a smile, he thought back to the day he'd proposed. It was one year to the day after they'd first kissed in the courtroom and they'd spent nearly every single day together since. He'd thought about arranging an extravagant candlelight dinner on a yacht or taking Hermione to Paris on the Malfoy family plane but, in the end, he'd done it at Sunday dinner at her parents' house. The ring had been in his pocket for nearly a month and suddenly he couldn't wait any longer. So he dropped down to one knee as Mrs. Granger brought out dessert. Hermione had burst into tears and thrown her arms around his neck before he'd even finished asking the question. Now, he smiled as he watched her fiddle with the ruby and emerald ring that shone on her finger. He somehow loved her even more, six years later. Hermione seemed to sense he was looking at her because she turned her head and smiled at him.

"Any luck?" she asked.

"No," he replied, rising from the desk and moving to sit next to her on the couch.

Draco wrapped his arm around her shoulders and Hermione snuggled up against his side.

"Me neither," she confessed. "I remember everything and now I remember, very clearly, why we stopped. We hit a wall."

"We did," Draco confirmed, placing a light kiss on her forehead. "We tried every text in the Malfoy, Flint, and Hogwarts libraries and we tried asking those so called experts in the field. We've tried everything."

"Well…not everything," Hermione said, pulling back to look up at Draco. "I had an idea a while back but I wasn't sure how you would react."

Draco raised an eyebrow in response. "Oh?"

"I want to talk to Marcus Flint," Hermione told him, wincing when he began to swear.

"No way in hell," Draco replied. "I'm not letting you go anywhere near that man."

"Draco, if he did the spell, he may know how to undo it," Hermione pleaded. "Plus now that he's dying, he has nothing left to lose."

"No," Draco repeated, rising from the couch to pace. "I'm not letting you talk to him."

"You're not LETTING me talk to him?" Hermione parroted, raising her voice and rising to her feet as well. "I'm so sorry, since when do YOU tell ME what to do?"

"Damn it, Hermione, I'm trying to protect you!" Draco exclaimed. "Why the hell won't you let me do that?"

"Because I don't need you to protect me," Hermione shouted. "I helped bring down Voldemort."

"I love you, you pain in the ass," Draco yelled. "Why do you insist upon putting yourself in situations where you can get hurt?"

"I love you too, you moron," Hermione yelled back. "I'm going to do this whether you like it or not."

Exasperated, Draco threw himself back onto the loveseat. Hermione sat down next to him and took his hands in her own, the anger suddenly flooding out of both of them.

"I just want you to be safe," Draco told her, quietly.

"I know," Hermione replied, squeezing his hands. "But Flint isn't a threat, at least not in his condition that he's in now. And you'll be there next to me when I talk to him. Please, Draco, we've tried everything else. Let's try this."

Hermione looked into Draco's eyes and tried to contain her excitement the moment she saw his face change into acceptance.

"Okay," he mumbled, rolling his eyes. "Floo Weasley and set it up. We'll go talk to Flint."

Hermione leaned forward and gave him a loud kiss on the cheek before jumping off the loveseat and rushing over to the fireplace on the other side of the room. Draco rubbed his hand over his face as he listened to Hermione chat with Ron. Oh if 11 year old Draco Malfoy could see him now, he thought. Hermione pulled him from his thoughts with a shake.

"Ron says we can go first thing tomorrow morning," Hermione told him. "He'll have Flint waiting in an examination room when we arrive. Fully shackled with Harry and Ron standing guard right outside the room."

"Thank you," Draco replied, knowing full well Hermione must have asked for all the added precautions for his peace of mind.

"Thank you," Hermione answered, holding out her hand to him.

Draco took her hand and Hermione pulled him to his feet.

"So we have an empty house and nothing to do until tomorrow," Hermione said, giving him a Cheshire cat grin. "Can you think of a way we can pass the time?"

Draco grinned back at her. "A few ideas come to mind."

Without warning, he bent down and swept Hermione into his arms. "Let me show you what I had in mind."

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The next morning, Hermione dragged Draco out of bed before the sun was even up. Within an hour of waking up, Draco found himself again back in Azkaban. This time, however, he was sitting in what looked like it must have been some kind of meeting room. It had a metal table with two chairs on one side and a shackled Marcus Flint sitting on the other side. He looked horrible, Draco thought, his eyes skimming over Flint's gaunt form.

"Ms. Granger, Mr. Malfoy," he greeted them politely as they sat down at the table. His voice came out weak and raspy. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I'd like to talk about the spell that you used on me," Hermione replied, calmly. "I'd like to know how to sever the tie."

Instead of responding, Flint merely stared at her. He then looked to Draco then back to Hermione.

"What will you give me?" he asked.

"Give you?" Hermione asked, incredulously. "You have already been given more years alive than most other Death Eaters who were convicted of war crimes. You don't get anything more than that."

"Surely Malfoy told you how us Slytherins work," Flint replied, giving her a nasty grin. "We don't do anything for free or out of the goodness of our hearts. We don't have hearts."

"But you're dying," Hermione exclaimed. "You have nothing to gain from killing me along with you!"

"Other than the satisfaction of taking away Potter's greatest tool?" Flint answered. "His invaluable mudblood?"

Draco clenched his fist under the table and spoke for the first time.

"This is boring," he drawled, sounding very much like the boy he'd been at Hogwarts. "Flint, we'll cure you and, when we do, you'll give Granger the counter-spell."

"You can cure me?" Flint asked, whipping his head toward Draco. "How?"

"Do you forget what the Malfoy family business is?" Draco questioned, with a shallow laugh. "Please, I can have one of our potions masters whip something up and have you back to feeling 100% again."

"Deal," Flint agreed, quickly. "You cure me and I'll tell you where I got the spell that I used. It should be exactly where I left it when they grabbed me."

"Very well," Draco said, rising and grabbing Hermione's arm, squeezing it and hoping she understood that she should stay quiet. "We'll be going then."

"See you soon, Malfoy," Flint replied. "Very soon."

Draco practically dragged Hermione into the hallway and quickly shut the door behind him. Harry and Ron approached them as Hermione turned to speak to Draco.

"We can't cure him," Hermione said, looking at Draco confused. "Why would you tell him that?"

"To see how he'd respond," Draco replied. "If he's willing to take some random potion from a former classmate, he obviously is willing to try anything to stay alive. We can use that."

"How?" Hermione wanted to know.

"I don't know yet," Draco admitted. "I'll think of something if I have to but he made a mistake in talking to me. He was so wrapped up in the prospect of being healed, he gave up information about the spell he used."

"He offered to tell us where he got it," Hermione murmured. "Which means he did get the spell from somewhere, likely a book. And wherever it is, he expects or knows that it's been untouched for all these years."

"But we searched the Flint house top to bottom," Draco answered, frustrated. "Where else could he have accessed that information?"

"Did you two ever search the Lestrange house?" Harry asked, curiously.

"The Lestrange house?" Hermione repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Why would we look there?"

"That's where we captured Flint," Ron told them. "We got a tip that someone had been going in and out of the house. We thought it may have been Rabastan since we never confirmed that he was dead but instead we found Flint."

"You never mentioned that before," Draco accused, advancing toward Ron. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"We assumed you knew," Harry replied, stepping in front of Draco, cutting off his path to Ron. "It was all over the news."

"And the house would be exactly the same as it was, right?" Hermione asked, excitedly. "Because it's still technically a forfeiture from the war since we don't know where Rabastan is."

"Yes," Harry told her. "But you'll need an Auror to go with you to let you in."

"Well?" Hermione questioned, looking from Harry to Ron and back. "Which one of you is coming?"

"We're both needed here," Ron replied. "But why don't we see if Dean and Seamus are available to take you?"

"Finnegan?" Draco asked. "Are we blowing something up to get inside?"

"Draco!" Hermione scolded. "He hasn't accidentally blown anything up in years."

"Only because now his job is to intentionally blow things up," Draco countered, referring to Seamus' job with the wizarding equivalent of the muggle bomb squad.

"I'll have one or both of them meet you at the house," Harry offered, ignoring Draco's response. "It might be a couple of hours though before they can be there."

"We'll go straight there," Hermione said, looking to Draco for affirmation.

"We'll go straight there," Draco confirmed.

"I'll go get in touch with Seamus and Dean," Harry replied, giving Hermione a quick hug. "They'll be there as soon as they can."

At that, Ron led Hermione and Draco out of Azkaban as Harry disappeared deeper into the prison. Ron handed Hermione a portkey and she gave him a quick hug. Draco took hold of the portkey and the two were transported back to their home. Unwilling to waste a minute, Hermione wrapped her arms around Draco's waist and apparated them to the long path that led to the Lestrange Estate. When they arrived at the front gate 15 minutes later, they were surprised to find both Seamus and Dean waiting there with the gate open.

"What took you two so long?" Seamus asked, with a grin.

"Yeah, Potter owes us 10 sickles," Dean added, grinning as well. "He bet us that you'd beat us here."

"Thank you," Hermione answered, returning their grins. "Can we go inside?"

"After you," Seamus said, with a sweeping arm motion toward the home. "Do you need anything from us?"

"No," Draco replied, placing his hand on the small of Hermione's back to guide her forward. "We should be fine."

"No, thank you," Hermione amended, giving Draco a look. "We'll let you know though if that changes."

Draco rolled his eyes and received an elbow in the ribs from his wife for doing so. He rubbed his side with his right hand, keeping Hermione's hand in his as they moved into the Lestrange house.

"Library?" Draco asked.

Hermione nodded and Draco led them through the house. It looked exactly the same, Draco thought with a shiver, exactly the same as it had all the years he'd been here as a child. Within minutes, he'd navigated them through the large house to the back of the house where the library was located. The minute they stepped into the room, Hermione sneezed.

"So I guess we're looking for the one book that isn't covered in dust," Draco commented, running his finger across one of the bookshelves through about an inch thick of dust.

"Let's split up," Hermione told him. "We'll cover more ground faster."

They separated and began to systematically move through the Lestrange library. Row by row by row they walked, eyes frantically searching for anything that could have been the book that Flint used. Nearly an hour later, they reunited near the front door where they had started, Hermione with her back to the door and Draco facing her.

"Nothing?" Hermione asked, sadly.

"Nothing." Draco replied in the same tone. "Everything is covered in that same layer of dust. None of this stuff has been touched in years."

"Should we go through the rest of the house?" Hermione wanted to know. "He may have taken it out of the library and into one of the other rooms."

"We should," Draco confirmed. "We might as well get Finnegan and Thomas to help do that."

"We'll find it," Hermione reassured him, stepping up and wrapping her arms around his waist. She laid her head against his chest.

Draco sighed and wrapped his arms around Hermione. For a moment they just stood there, holding each other, before Hermione broke the moment by wrenching out of Draco's arms.

"Is that?!" she exclaimed, shoving past Draco nearly knocking him over.

Draco managed to right himself before he fell and he watched as his witch practically dove under one of the plush leather chairs at the center of the room. She emerged a moment later covered in dust with a book in hand. She quickly plopped into one of the chairs as Draco quickly crossed over to her. Hermione opened the book and, a moment later, let out a growl of frustration.

"Is that it?" Draco asked, trying to look over her shoulder.

"I think so," Hermione replied. "But look, it's written in some kind of code. Only parts of it are translated in the book. Flint must have either known the code or broken it and then translated it in his head."

"So we translate it," Draco replied, taking the book from Hermione's hands and looking over it.

"You think we can?" Hermione asked.

"Of course, you're the brightest person I know, second of course to me," Draco replied, smiling as Hermione rolled her eyes at his response. "But in all seriousness, this is the best lead that we've had. We can do this."

"Okay," Hermione answered. "Let's take the book back to the house and get started."

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Over the next week, Hermione and Draco worked every day, nearly 18 hours a day, on translating the book. With the handful of translated words written into the book, they were able to translate the entire book. Hermione wrote down the last translated word on the separate sheet of parchment before dropping the quill.

"It's translated," Hermione said, stretching out her hand.

"Now let's see what it says," Draco replied, picking up the parchment.

Hermione slid into Draco's lap on the loveseat so they could both see the papers. They got halfway through when Hermione practically ripped the page Draco hadn't gotten to out of his hands.

"This is it!" she exclaimed. "This is the spell he used!"

" _Ligare_ ," Draco read aloud. "The spell is to, quite literally, tie lives together."

"Where's the next page?" Hermione asked, impatiently. "There has to be a way to sever the tie."

Draco tried to shift the papers but, between Hermione grabbing at them and his own unsecure grip, the papers fell onto the coffee table.

"Sit," Draco said, sliding Hermione out of his lap and onto the couch. "Just give me a minute."

Draco turned back to the papers and re-organized them.

"Now," he said. "Going back to-"

But he stopped mid-sentence. Hermione was slumped over on the couch.

"Hermione?" Draco questioned, shaking her arm and, when she didn't respond, shaking her harder. "Hermione?"

But Hermione didn't move. Swearing, Draco lifted her into his arms and, as an afterthought, shrunk the translation down, placing it in his pocket. He walked out of the front door and, without a second thought, apparated to St. Mungos. He carried Hermione into the emergency wing and was grateful to see the Longbottoms happened to be standing at the front desk.

"What happened?" Hannah asked, rushing over to meet Draco, whipping out her wand.

"She just knocked out," Draco replied, lowering Hermione onto the gurney that Neville brought over. "She won't wake up."

"She's barely breathing," Hannah said, her hand on Hermione's neck. "And her pulse is weak. We need to take her back."

Draco watched helplessly as the Longbottoms moved faster than he ever thought possible and nearly smiled when Hannah snapped at a training witch who got into her way. Rubbing his hands over his face, Draco realized he needed to get in touch with Weasley and Potter. Fortunately for him, he didn't have to go far to find them. He'd made it about three steps before both came barreling through the door, their respective wives close behind them.

"Potter squared, Weasley squared," he greeted them, stiffly.

"Hannah had us called," Harry replied, without returning the greeting. "We were already on our way when Hedwig found us."

"Flint is here too," Ron explained, when Draco gave Harry a curious look. "He was brought in about 10 minutes ago."

"What's wrong with him?" Draco asked.

"Poisoning," Harry replied. "I'll explain later. What happened to Hermione?"

"She just passed out," Draco told them. "She wouldn't wake up."

"Here comes Hannah," Ginny said, gesturing toward the desk.

Hannah approached the group with a grim look on her face.

"Both Hermione and Flint are critical," Hannah told them. "Flint's organs are failing rapidly and he's essentially draining the life out of Hermione."

"What caused this to happen so fast?" Draco asked. "According to you, we still had another couple of weeks before Flint died."

"I can answer that," Ron chimed in. "The reason Harry and I couldn't let you into the Lestrange home is we'd closed in on who was poisoning Flint. Unfortunately, that person managed to slip him a large dose right as we got into Flint's cell."

"So this person was targeting Flint and not Hermione?" Draco asked.

"Right," Harry replied. "He had no idea that Flint's life was tied to Hermione's. He just wanted revenge."

"Who was it?" Draco questioned.

"Dennis Creevey," Ron told him.

"Who in the name of Merlin is that?" Draco asked, exasperated.

"His brother Colin was our year at Hogwarts," Lavender chimed in. "He died in the Battle of Hogwarts."

"Apparently someone remembered seeing Flint around when Colin was killed," Harry explained. "Whoever it was told Dennis and Dennis saw his chance when we hired him as a guard for Azkaban."

"Leave it to a Gryffindor to royally fuck up killing someone," Draco said, menacingly. "You better put Creevey somewhere I can't get to him."

Before anyone could answer, Neville appeared near the front desk.

"Hannah, we need you NOW!" he shouted, louder than Draco had ever heard him yell. "They're both coding."

"What the hell does that mean?" Draco demanded to know, keeping pace with Hannah as she rushed back into the main part of the hospital.

"It means we're running out of time," Hannah told him, pausing only to throw him a pair of sanitary robes. "So if you've got a way to sever the tie between them, now is the time to do it."

Draco quickly threw the robes on, pausing only to withdraw the translation notes from his pocket. He stepped into the emergency room where he saw not just Hannah and Neville but a full team of medi-wizards working to keep both Flint and Hermione alive. Draco returned the notes to a normal size and quickly found the pages that he and Hermione had been reading. He focused on Hermione's neat handwriting, blocking out the chaos that was going on around him. He silently read over the notes once, then twice before Hannah shouted to him.

"Malfoy, we can't keep Flint alive much longer," Hannah told him. "It's now or never."

Draco tucked the notes back into his pocket. He rubbed his thumb against his wedding ring before pulling out his wand.

"Focus on Flint," Draco instructed. "Let me take care of Hermione."

"Do what he says," Hannah snapped and the team of medi-wizards immediately stepped back.

Draco took a deep breath and moved next to Hermione's bed.

"I love you," he whispered.

He raised his wand and began the incantation of the paper. He got the last words of the spell out when a loud beep filled the room.

"We've lost him," Hannah said, wiping her brow and moving over to Hermione.

"What about Hermione?" Draco asked, clutching his wife's hand. "I don't hear anything."

"We didn't hook her up to that machine," Hannah told him, sliding her hand up to Hermione's neck.

Hannah kept her hand on Hermione's neck, slid it around a little, and then left it in one spot.

"She's alive," Hannah told him, tears in her eyes. "She's alive."

Draco dropped his head onto Hermione's stomach and let out the breath he didn't even realize he was holding.

"I'll go tell the others," Hannah said, slipping out of the room with the rest of the people following her out.

Draco simply laid his ear against Hermione's chest, listening to her heart beat strong. What felt like an eternity later, Draco felt those familiar tiny hands running through his hair. Draco looked up and silver met brown.

"Flint?" Hermione asked.

"He didn't make it," Draco told her, pointedly not looking over at the covered body that was in the next bed. "Thank Merlin you did."

"Thanks for making sure I didn't die," Hermione said, giving him a small smile.

"You're welcome," Draco choked out, with a half laugh.

Hermione slid over and patted the bed. Draco slid in next to her and wrapped his arms around Hermione, pulling her so that she lay at his side with her head on his shoulder. They lay there quietly, with Draco placing light kisses on Hermione's forehead every other minute. Hermione lifted her head and Draco leaned down to give her a long kiss.

"Let's go to France," Draco murmured. "Join the kids and my parents. Take a week all together."

"Okay," Hermione replied, laughing when Draco looked down at her in surprise. "What?"

"I thought that was going to be an argument," Draco replied with a laugh of his own.

"Only for a week," Hermione reminded him. "Then we have to come back and go back to the firm."

"Yes dear," Draco murmured, giving her another kiss, his mind already working a mile a minute trying to figure out a way to extend the vacation longer than a week. He'd come up with a way, he thought. Hermione settled her head back on Draco's shoulder and he linked their hands, smiling as he saw their rings next to each other. Now that was a tie he never intended to sever.


End file.
